


all the world's a stage

by peachsneakers



Series: preservation of the self [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (Not cutting), Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Panic Attacks, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19722739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Sometimes Roman can't stop lying to himself.





	all the world's a stage

He's good at lying to himself.

It's part of his job, he thinks. There's a reason he got along so well with Deceit during the courtroom scene. Creativity and lying go together like chocolate and peanut butter. Any good lie needs a sprinkle of creativity to really stick, doesn't it?

But sometimes even Roman can't keep up the pretense. The false confidence and bluster that deflates like a punctured balloon when he's alone, curled up in his bed and wishing that he were anywhere but there. That he didn't have to sleep alone. He knew Patton and Virgil sometimes slept in the same bed. Patton always offered his bedroom up, in case anyone had a nightmare, but Roman couldn't admit he had nightmares. That was... That was _Virgil's_ job. _His_ job was to be creative, to lavish Thomas with brilliant new ideas and vanquish any dragons that needed slaying.

What was he supposed to do when the dragon existed in his own mind?

"You know, Roman, you've really got to stop doing this," a voice drawls. Roman looks up as he steps through his bedroom door, startled, only to immediately pull his sword with a cry of outrage.

"Get out of here, Jack the Fibber!" He growls, waving his sword in a hopefully menacing fashion. The snake-like side just rolls his eyes.

"No," Deceit says. "You keep summoning me, anyway. I'm tired of pretending I'm not here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Roman demands, his eyes narrowing. His stomach twists at the implication. How many times has Deceit watched him, unknowing? What was he doing when Deceit did? Has he seen-

"You should be careful, Roman," Deceit warns. "Punch yourself harder and you totally _won't_ break a rib or two. I'm sure you'd have an _easy_ time explaining that to everyone else."

Roman feels his breathing speed up. His sword thumps gracelessly to the floor as his head spins, awhirl with images of the purple, yellow, and green splotches that cover his thighs and stomach. Deceit knows... He _knows_ -

"Breathe," Deceit orders, suddenly right _there_ as he guides Roman over to the bed and pushes on his shoulders, urging him to sit. "In for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, out for eight seconds. Come on, that's it."

It takes what feels like an eternity, but finally, Roman's panic lifts and he takes a last shuddering breath, looking up at Deceit.

"Why- You helped me," Roman says, confused. "Why?"

"Well, it's certainly _not_ because I care about you or anything," Deceit says. "After all, I absolutely do _not_ encapsulate Thomas's self-preservation and why at all would that extend to any of the sides in his mind?"

"Oh," Roman says, after parsing through exactly what Deceit meant. "What- what do you mean I keep summoning you?"

"When one of you lies to yourself that persistently, it comes to my attention like a siren," Deceit says, a grimace tugging at his mouth. It looks odd against the scales. "And you- Well, you've just been a _beacon_ of truth lately, haven't you."

Roman flushes, cringing away from Deceit, but Deceit doesn't laugh or mock him, just studies him with those mismatched eyes. Roman takes long moments to speak again.

"Thank you," he murmurs. He can't even muster up an insult.

"Talk to the others," Deceit orders. "I _love_ being summoned up here and all, but your friends _totally_ don't deserve to know what's going on in your head when you're low."

And with that, Deceit vanishes, leaving a stunned Roman in his wake.


End file.
